


Open up my Eager Eyes

by sarkywoman



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Drug Use, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-25
Updated: 2019-05-25
Packaged: 2020-03-14 17:36:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,477
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18952780
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sarkywoman/pseuds/sarkywoman
Summary: Diego finds Klaus in over his head again. A birthday fic for gratednutmeg.





	Open up my Eager Eyes

**Author's Note:**

  * For [gratednutmeg](https://archiveofourown.org/users/gratednutmeg/gifts).



> I played 'Mr Brightside' so many times while listening to this. But nearly every time I listen to it, even though it's my favourite song, I can't help muttering "and he's also a crab" at the appropriate time. So when reading any serious moments in this fic feel free to imagine me muttering, "and he's also a crab..." for the 200th time.
> 
> Apologies for any errors, I've been working on it for three days straight and at this point I just want to share it with the patient birthday girl.

The worst thing about breaking up with Eudora was the fact that she no longer had incentive not to judge him. 

It wasn’t like he hadn’t _known_ she was judging him silently before. She did this cute sceptical thing where her lips would twist just so and her eyes would squint. He’d always heard her saying ‘seriously?’ even if she said nothing at all. 

Of course, over time it got to be that she’d start vocalising it. 

_“You’re really going to eat raw egg for breakfast?”_

_“Gym? Again? You know crime won’t stop at the sight of your abs, there’s more to policing than that.”_

_“Of course you won’t call him. Why would you make the logical choice about someone you care about?”_

It wasn’t like Diego didn’t give as good as he got. He had his own thoughts about how she lived her life too, making saving lives all about the paperwork. Hell, sometimes she made great points, but it didn’t stop the judgment from chafing. Things went downhill from there, but breaking up hadn’t stopped her. Constantly crossing paths in her job and his vocation meant that they were still… friends. Kind of. She had called him a nemesis the other day, but she didn’t mean it. She had meant what she’d said after though, that he shouldn’t become a recluse. The concern had been genuine, enough to make him listen. She had mentioned a couple of the guys had been asking after him.

And it had been a while since he’d seen anyone other than the dudes at the gym he was crashing in. So he made the call, got invited along to a night out. A couple of guys from the force, a few who’d dropped out like him. 

He had to snag a new jacket from lost property at the gym. Turning up in full vigilante gear would have been ‘a tragic faux pas’, as Klaus might have said. 

Diego hadn’t called him in about seven months. When Allison last forced him into rehab. 

It was surprisingly easy to ingratiate himself again with his old cohorts. The guys who had successfully scored and kept cop jobs were outnumbered by the drop-outs and took the opportunity to regale them with stories of how they had done the right thing in leaving when they did. Budget cuts, public opinion, red tape… all of it validated the picture Diego had in his mind when he had thrown his ID on the desk and walked out. 

With the drinks flowing easily, conversation did the same. Diego told them, when pressed, about his ‘part-time security work’. 

“No rules. Not really. Someone steps out of line, you crack down.” Nods around the table from people who had no clue what he was really talking about. “Someone breaks the law in some shitty, harmless way? Fuck it, let it slide. I don’t have to start signing forms and slamming cuffs on someone trying their best to get by. I can be my own law.”

“Like ‘Wings’,” said one of the cops, Tim, to the other, Eduardo. 

Eduardo chuckled. “Oh man, they got us made. Seriously, they know their game.”

“Is that the strip joint? Down on thirteenth by the burrito place?” Diego asked.

“That’s the one. They’ve got...” Tim finished the dregs of his beer and put the bottle down hard on the table. “You know what? We should go. Tonight.”

“I don’t know...”

Diego’s protest was drowned out by the rowdy cheers from around the table. They’d all been drinking for a while at that point, their empties covering the table despite it being cleared once already. 

“We should,” said Zack eagerly. “I’ve been there. Susie Sugar is sweet on me.” He guffawed. “Ha, sweet. Sugar. But seriously, she’s into me.”

“It’s her job to act that way man,” Diego said, smirking at the naivete. 

“Seriously, she met me after hours!”

“Be careful man,” Tim said sincerely. “Pretty sure she’s Ray’s favourite girl.” At Diego’s raised eyebrow he explained, “the bruiser.”

“No, no, no,” Zack argued. “Ray’s got that weird twink. His crack whore. No fucking taste, that man.”

As… _delightful_ as the guys made the place out to be, Diego found himself tagging along anyway. More out of a drunk curiosity than anything. He’d been in a strip club once, had felt extremely awkward, then left. But that had been a long time ago. He was a grown-ass man now. It would take more than tacky interior, sky-high drink prices, jiggling breasts and glaring gang-types to shock him.

For example, his brother Klaus poledancing in seven-inch see-through heels and fluffy white lingerie.

Diego nearly choked to death on the first sip of his drink when he saw him. His Klaus. A fucking white corset with _fluffy trimming_. Fake angel wings, in-keeping with the club’s gimmick. Grinding up against the pole with the little white underwear stretched over his package. His usual smudged eyeliner, but with white glitter catching the lights of the club. A fucking white feather boa. People leering at the edge of the stage and waving cash at him. 

When Zack finished patting Diego’s back they were all grinning. “I did say about the twink crack whore.”

“Maybe that’s what Diego’s into,” teased David, the guy who had quit shortly before Diego did.

“Fuck off, he’s...” His teeth caught his tongue before he could say ‘my brother’. He couldn’t say it. Not with what had so very nearly happened between them, before Diego threw himself into his ‘normal’ relationship with Eudora. Not to mention all the times before that. The tension. The unspoken moments. 

What were they to one another?

As fucked up as Luther and Allison, that’s what. Moreso maybe, since Allison had probably never gotten wasted and tried to suck Luther’s cock. 

A mental image he didn’t need to give himself. Still, it was better than remembering those dreamy eyes and roaming hands.

(And the way Klaus had gone when Diego grabbed his wrists and said ‘no’. Mercurial as any addict, soft and sweet one minute then a whirlwind of reckless anger the next.)

“He’s Ray’s,” Zack said, as he had earlier. “The big man’s not in his seat though, maybe you can get your dick sucked before he gets back.”

Diego’s shove knocked Zack off of his stool, sending a beer everywhere. 

“Hey, what the fuck?!”

Eduardo was already pacifying the bartender when Diego pulled Zack back to his feet. “They’re strippers, not whores,” he said to try and explain his anger.

“Pfft, some of them maybe. But I doubt it. This isn’t some fancy lounge, Diego.”

“Whatever.”

He hunched over his drink at the bar. He wanted to leave and unsee this. But that was childish. Even if he left, Klaus would be here. Diego couldn’t go home and pretend he wasn’t.

“Think he likes you.”

Diego glanced over his shoulder. Klaus was somehow halfway up the pole, legs wrapped around it.

Eyes on him. 

Shit.

Back to his drink Diego went. “Come on man,” Fahim said, throwing an arm around his shoulders. Fahim had quit shortly after Diego. He sold vacation packages now. “It’s twenty-nineteen. You wanna get off with a dude then more power to you, friend.”

“Fuck off.”

“Just don’t expect us to back you up when Ray takes a baseball bat to your balls.”

In all the joking and teasing, Diego didn’t notice when the song changed. He did notice when the guys all fell quiet and turned to their drinks with schoolboy smirks. 

“Well hello there,” said Klaus. He leaned against the bar and with such a small gap between the barstools, it meant that his thigh pressed against Diego’s. His naked thigh.

“Hi.”

“Did your friends drag you here?” Klaus asked sweetly.

“Yeah.” Diego could barely look at him.

“You didn’t exactly kick up a fuss,” said Tim. 

“How do you even walk in those?” Diego asked when his gaze fell onto the stupid heels. Trying to direct the conversation to something inane.

“One foot in front of the other silly,” Klaus said, almost in a sing-song. Mimicking their mother in a way that made Diego grind his teeth. That reference wasn’t welcome here. “Get a private dance and I’ll show ya.”

The guys egged him on, all eager for the spectacle of Diego Hargreeves getting close to a stripper. Diego shook his head. “No thanks.”

Klaus sighed. “Well you know where I am if you change your mind.”

“Under Ray’s table,” said David, under his breath. 

If Klaus heard, he didn’t care. He sashayed away from the bar. Diego watched him go, only realising after a few moments he was watching the slight snag of white fabric around the curve of Klaus’ pert ass. 

He went back to his drink, mind racing as quick as it could through the alcohol. It could just have been dancing. The guys could have been messing with him about the sexual aspect. They had to be, because if Diego found out people had been paying his Klaus for sex, he was going to…

What, exactly? What could he do? 

“Alright lads,” said a jovial low voice. The glaring man Diego had spotted when they first walked in. 

“Ray,” Tim said warmly. “Good to see you.”

He and Eduardo shook Ray’s hand like they were business associates. Ray was only slightly taller than Diego, but he was broader. Big shoulders, barrel chest. He looked like the sort of guy who’d work for a comic-book super-villain without questioning an insane order. Or Luther. 

Same difference really.

Still, his eyes gleamed with what might have been intelligence when he looked to the bartender and said, “hope you’re looking after our boys in blue over here.”

“Yes sir.”

“Next round’s on me.”

The bartender nodded. “Yes sir.”

Ray looked at Diego and frowned. He was considering something. Diego started racking his brains to try and figure out where he might know the guy from. He broke up a lot of gang activity in the city, single-handedly decimating criminal operations. He didn’t always kill them all. Maybe his description had made it back to this man, if Ray was a major player like the guys had implied. Diego wore a mask, but his scars were distinctive.

“You. You box, right?”

Huh. Not what he expected. “I do.”

“I _knew_ I recognised you from somewhere. My Klaus is cute but he’s a bloodthirsty little bitch, insists on going to see you fight sometimes.”

Diego had seen him in the crowd once. He’d assumed it was a one-off. “He does?”

“Yup. Whined and pouted until I put my bet on you instead of the other guy. You won me some money that night.”

“Well you know, that’s why I do it,” Diego said, deadpan.

It scored a big laugh from Ray, who clapped him hard on the back. “You want a dance from Klaus, just let him know. He’d be happy to, I’m sure. Just don’t let him touch ya, or I’ll kill ya.” Ray smiled widely. “We should have a match sometime.”

“Cool. I’d be up for it.”

“Good man.” Ray clapped his hands together and looked over their group. “Enjoy your night, gentlemen.”

“Oh, wait,” Zack said, “is Susie working tonight? Haven’t seen her.”

“Ugh, bitch left to get married. Don’t worry, we’ve got plenty more where she came from. Take a look around, pick a new favourite.”

He walked off back to his table, missing the look of utter devastation on Zack’s face. Fahim sighed and patted Zack’s shoulder. “This is why you don’t fall for a stripper...”

“Fuck off.”

Zack pushed him away, knocked over the barstool in his haste to get off of it, then stormed out of the club. 

“What an idiot,” David said. They all laughed, except Diego.

His attention was caught on one of the podiums, where Klaus was with another dancer. Although there were about four female dancers, he was up there with the other guy. Some oiled up beefcake type, glistening six-pack and shoulder muscles straining against the binds of the golden wings he was wearing. Tight gold hot-pants.

They were obviously faking the sexual tension. They had to be. Gold and buff guy looked like he wanted to eat Klaus alive, his big hands roaming up and down Klaus’ skinny hips. Klaus, for his part, looked a world away. Enjoying himself, perhaps, painted nails shining in the club lights as he wove his hands through the air above his head.

But almost definitely high as a kite.

“I’m gonna take off dudes,” Eduardo said when they went to order their free round. “Don’t want to explain to my lady where I’ve been if I’m not home soon!”

Then there were four. Conversation had been mostly exhausted in the bar beforehand and the music in the club got louder as the night went on. It wasn’t long before Fahim was at the stage throwing cash at scantily-clad women in angel wings and not long after that that David was heading off into a private room with a bondage-themed ‘angel’ called Mandy. 

Diego was trying very hard not to keep his eyes on Klaus. He didn’t want to be that blatant. Not to his friends, not to Ray, not to Klaus himself. The heels were apparently proving more difficult as the night went on. When Tim excused himself to go talk with Ray about “nothing really”, Diego saw his opportunity to go to the sofa where Klaus was lounging.

“We need to talk. Alone.”

Klaus’ smile was slow and sleepy. “A private room? Why Diego, I was wondering when you’d take me up on that.” He was slow to stand, so Diego grabbed his arm and pulled him up.

“Can we talk outside?”

“Ooh no,” Klaus said with a frown. “That’s a no-no.”

“Don’t tell me you’ve got a contract.”

“You know what, I think I have,” Klaus said, though he didn’t look sure. “Come on.”

With a little twist of their arms, Klaus was the one pulling him along, leading him to one of the doors at the side. Inside was a plush sofa, an end table with a bottle of wine and two glasses and a standing mirror. The light was a little cheap chandelier. There were thick red curtains, but when Diego pulled one back, there was no window. 

Klaus giggled. “That freaked me the fuck out when I realised.” He closed the door.

“What are you doing here?” Diego asked.

“Making money. I have to feed the baby, Diego.”

“Baby?”

“Me. I’m the baby.” Klaus ambled to the sofa and collapsed onto it gracelessly. He looked up at Diego legs akimbo, pupils blown. 

“You’re an idiot. What are you doing working in a place like this?”

“Am I high or did I already answer that question?”

“High.”

“Hi,” Klaus beamed.

Diego pinched the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. “You are such a fucking idiot.” He moved nearer to the couch so that he could better look down at Klaus. “Your boss seems like a dangerous man.”

“Aren’t all dedicated businessmen dangerous? Capitalism’s a beast.”

“Taking your clothes off for money? Seriously?” Diego prodded at one of the stupid shoes with the toe of his boot. “In these fucking...”

“It’s weird seeing you here,” Klaus said abruptly. 

“What?! _You_ think it’s weird seeing _me_ here? How do you think I feel?”

“Dunno,” Klaus shrugged. “Never could figure that out.”

With a sigh, Diego settled down onto the sofa beside him. “I don’t like seeing you like this. Wasted, in bad company and tacky lingerie.”

“The last one’s a lie. I know you’ve been checking me out all night.”

“Klaus… I’m serious. I don’t like seeing you sell yourself.”

“Why?”

The question made Diego splutter. “Why? You’re seriously asking me why?”

“Yup. At least I’m not on the street again.”

“You’ve got your own place?” Diego asked, already guessing at the answer.

“No, but Ray lets me crash at his.” At Diego’s look he adds defensively, “I’m not the only one, a few people stay there. He has a huge place.”

“Some guys were calling you his ‘crack whore’.”

“Rude.”

“Any truth to it?”

Klaus rolled his eyes. “I’m not on crack.” A pause. “Lately.”

“And the whore part?”

“Oh my god,” Klaus threw his head back on the sofa. “What does it matter?”

“It matters,” Diego said firmly.

“Because I’m your _brother_?” Klaus asked, simpering insincerely on the last word. “Spare me. When’s the last time you talked to – not even just me, but anyone in our family? We were never a family. At least I tried to keep in touch with Allison, before she got too big for her boots.”

“You mean before she put you in rehab.”

“And Vanya, before she wrote her mean book.”

“The only reason you kept up with anyone was to score drug money and a place to sleep.”

“Exactly,” Klaus said, pointing dynamically at him. “Some family, huh?” They fell quiet for a little while, then he said, “that’s not why I still talked to you though. You know that, right?” He looked genuinely worried.

“Right.”

Klaus kicked his legs up over Diego’s lap. Diego ran his hand down one naked shin, toyed with the buckle of the stupid shoe. He felt more drunk than he expected, but then he didn’t usually drink. 

“Do you sleep with customers?”

“Only if I want Ray to beat the shit out of them. Why? You want?”

“What?! No! No.”

“Liii-arrr...” Klaus swished his leg off of the sofa and leveraged himself over to Diego’s lap. Sitting there with his stupid fluffy wings out behind him. “You’ve been checking me out.”

“I’ve been shocked by this ridiculous outfit.”

“I don’t mean tonight. I mean for as long as I can remember.” His arms went around Diego’s neck as he looked off into the distance. “I remember the first time I got some male attention at a bar. This guy kept looking at me and it felt so familiar. He bought me a drink and it was only after we’d got each other off that I realised – that’s how Dee looks at me.”

“You’re wrong.” It was instinctual at this point to say it. Deny everything. He’d been about sixteen when he realised why Klaus felt so complicated to him, compared to the rest of their shitty household. Sixteen when he’d jerked off to the thought of Klaus in the dress he’d worn to dinner just to annoy their father.

But his denials had somehow never fooled Klaus. His ‘brother’ who rarely ever knew what day it was, who thought hamsters and gerbils were different sexes of the same animal, he had somehow seen the truth. Smiled through every one of Diego’s denials and only become more provocative. More blatant. He knew. Whatever Diego said, he knew the truth. 

“Who are you hiding from?” Klaus asked, stroking a finger along the scar at Diego’s temple. “Nobody in the world cares who we are or what we do. I don’t think they ever did.”

Diego frowned. “I care.”

“Me too.”

Klaus leaned in and his lips were soft against Diego’s, their facial hair brushing together. He smelled of sweet perfume and alcohol laid over physical exertion. For all Diego’s fantasising over the years, this felt real in a way his mind could never have offered him. Their tongues slid together as Diego slid his hands up under the edge of Klaus’ loosened corset and Klaus shifted forward to nestle more snugly in Diego’s lap. 

When Klaus drew back from the kiss Diego chased his lips like they were all he’d ever wanted. 

Maybe they were. 

A rap on the door broke the moment. “Klaus?” A voice called. 

“Yep!” Klaus whirled around and was falling off of Diego’s lap onto the sofa when the door opened and a tall black guy leaned in with a very stern expression. 

“Ray says you were supposed to have one of us by the door.”

“Oops?” 

“It’s cool, I was leaving,” Diego said, standing up a little unsteady and more than a little hard. 

“But Dee...” Klaus pouted and reached for him.

With a step back, Diego avoided the grab. “Call me when you’ve got your shit together. You’re better than this, Klaus.”

Sighing, Klaus sank back onto the sofa looking defeated. “No, I’m not.”

Ignoring the look from the dude at the door, Diego strode out of the little room. Fahim was still at the stage pushing money into cleavage, David was nowhere to be seen. Ray was watching him.

Diego ignored that and nodded to Tim, who was back at the bar. “Hey man, I’m heading out.”

“How was the crackwhore?”

He more felt his fist fly forward than he made a decision to throw a punch. It knocked Tim off his stool and left him sprawled on the floor. The bartender began frantically waving for security, but Diego shrugged.

“Don’t worry, I’m leaving.”

One guy tried to get in his path as he made his way out, but a swift punch to the gut doubled him over and left Diego clear to go on his merry way home. 

At least he wouldn’t have to worry about being invited out to socialise again for the foreseeable future, he thought. None of those assholes really knew him anyway. He remembered them better now, remembered how they had grated on him back in the academy. He didn’t expect any of them to cut it. 

But then he had expected to succeed and he hadn’t, so what did he know? Other than the fact they called his Klaus a crackwhore. 

His Klaus. That he had held and kissed and petted. 

It made him groan in the showers and wish he had a private one. Palming himself in the gym showers would be a quick way to lose his accommodation if anyone walked in. 

Diego dragged himself back to the privacy of his little room in the back of the gym, scrubbed his hair with the towel and kicked off the pants he’d put back on for the walk through the communal areas. Threw himself onto the bed and flicked off the lamp. 

Wondered what Klaus was doing. 

Or _who_ Klaus was doing.

Fuck.

Whenever he closed his eyes he could see the graceful arch of Klaus’ back as he rocked his hips against a metal pole. The things those stupid heels did to his long legs. 

As Diego’s hand went to his cock he could vividly imagine those legs wrapping around him. He’d run a knife up the ribbons of that corset, peel Klaus out of it. Have him entirely naked. Just him and Diego, skin to skin, here in his bed. 

Just like half a lifetime ago, the fantasy got him to come quicker than anything else he could think of. 

And just like that time and every time since, he woke up later on embarrassed by the lapse in judgment. 

He couldn’t do this. Fantasies were one thing. In her dumb book Vanya had even commented that Klaus’ self-destructive behaviour had been a factor in Diego’s ‘saviour complex’. She had written that Diego was so damaged by his inability to save Five and Ben that losing Klaus to his demons had driven him to recklessly do any good he could, even if it was ‘in misguided ways’.

Where was her Psych degree, anyway? She made all that shit up.

But there was maybe a little something to it. He’d still been a kid when Klaus went off the rails – like Klaus himself. Fighting against their father in whatever way they could. Diego had his fights with Luther, his refusal to follow orders, his furious stammering arguments with the sour-faced old bastard. Klaus had gone the other way, laying colourful inane glee over the maudlin ghost-whisperer Reginald was trying to create. To do that, he’d had to numb himself, escape from their reality. Diego had wanted to badly to save him, but he’d been too young to offer a compelling alternative.

They were so much older now, but Diego still wasn’t sure he could save him. It made his blood boil. Made him so angry with their ‘dad’, with Klaus, with _himself_. He hated to even think it, but when he looked around his minimalist home he couldn’t imagine Klaus staying. Klaus had visited a few times, though he stopped when Diego started seeing Eudora. All these years and Diego still wasn’t sure he could offer anything that would make Klaus happy, safe or stable. He belonged more under those lights with the glitter and music than he did in Diego’s room. 

Didn’t mean it was good for him though. 

Diego resolved not to go back. Klaus knew where to find him if he decided he needed help getting out of trouble. 

It sure would have been awesome if he could stop thinking about the crazy bastard though. But that was a train of thought he tended to have every time he saw Klaus again, or even heard of him again. Even in passing, like when Vanya released her book and Diego had seen Klaus’ name on a page. Like a reminder, _you didn’t dream up the man in your head_. The stuff she’d written about Klaus had made him as angry as the stuff she’d written about him.

When Eudora arrived she found him beating the crap out of a punching bag in the back of the gym.

“You punched out Tim.”

He grunted in confirmation, kept slamming his fists into the bag. 

“He’s telling everyone you’re a psychopath now.”

“Well he’s a piece of shit.”

Eudora came closer, into his field of vision. “You can tell me what you saw. It might help.”

“What I saw?”

She sighed. “Everyone knows he and Eduardo are corrupt as hell. You’d be doing me a favour. I’d appreciate it.”

“Is that why you sent me out with them?” Diego asked, finally stopping his workout and turning to face her. “You wanted evidence from someone outside the force?”

“No! I just wanted you to get out of here a little. You were becoming a weird vigilante shut-in. Like Batman without the money. Or social skills.”

“Wow. Thanks.”

“Look, Tim mentioned you guys went to ‘Wings’. There’s this nasty piece of work there, Raymond Gurwing.”

“Might have met him,” Diego said. “Personable. Sleazy.” Possibly fucking Klaus. Diego punched the bag again.

“It’s pretty much an open secret that Tim’s taking money from him. Attempts to catch Raymond in the act have all come to nothing.”

“Anyone tried not telling Tim about these ops?”

Eudora rolled her eyes. “We’re not idiots, Diego. But not everyone thinks he’s shifty. Definitely not my boss. I’d have to take something useful. I’m guessing you punched him out for a reason?”

“Not one that’s useful to you.”

“Try me.”

“He called my brother a whore.”

Eudora’s eyebrows darted towards her hairline. “Klaus.”

“Well, Ben’d be kinda tasteless, Five even worse. Luther… hard to imagine.”

“Okay, okay. So Klaus is still working for Raymond?”

The steam went out of Diego’s punch and his fist barely knocked the bag. He turned to her. “You knew?”

“You didn’t?”

“That my brother was working in a strip club for a gang thug?! No! I didn’t! You think I wouldn’t have fucking done something about it?!” Another thought occurred. “Wait, how do you know? You’ve seen him there?”

She folds her arms, looking ready for an argument. “There have been times we’ve tried to take Raymond’s cronies in. Klaus has been in that category a couple of times.”

“How could you not tell me?”

“I asked him if he wanted me to call you. He said no. I’m guessing because we were holding him on charges of possession and solicitation.”

“Hey, I just told you I punched Tim for calling him what he called him.”

Her reaction was to laugh. “Yeah right. I could take you. Besides, you know I’m just giving you the facts. I _could_ go into the state he was in when we found him the second time, but I’m actually not trying to hurt you.”

“Look, I can’t help you. Tim was with Ray at one point, but I don’t know what they were talking about. I had to talk to Klaus.”

“Is he okay?” Eudora asked. She really cared, Diego knew. Not even just for his sake, but because she’d never met a lost cause she didn’t want to work on. 

“He’s working in a strip club for a gang thug,” Diego repeated. “And from the sounds of what you’re not saying, it’s worse than I know even now.”

“Ray likes him, allegedly. We’ve been trying to get an in. Klaus has been… evasive.”

For a moment Diego couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “You m-mean to t-tell me...” He snarled at his own stutter and took a deep breath. Worked through what he was saying in his head. Eudora waited, because of course she did. She was a good person and all that shit, she just did _dumb_ things sometimes like, “you want my brother to be an informant?”

“He gets closer to Raymond’s operations than most. But his testimony’s likely to be unreliable so...” She shrugged.

“Why?”

“Because he’s a drug addict, Diego. I actually believe him when he says he didn’t notice anything going on there or that he doesn’t remember any of the details. He always seems high as hell when we take him in.” She sighed. “But that doesn’t matter.”

“It doesn’t?” He snapped.

“I mean his connection to our work doesn’t have to matter to you. I asked you if he was okay because I want you to be okay. And that’s not going to happen if Klaus isn’t okay.”

“We barely see each other. I didn’t know what was going on with him until last night.”

“And that was killing you,” Eudora said gently, her hand going to Diego’s arm. “I don’t… _get it_ exactly and I don’t think I ever will, but--”

“Get what?”

“But I want you to be happy, Diego. Whatever weird form that takes.”

There was only one way to interpret what she was saying. Diego met her gaze and saw nothing but kindness. She meant every word. 

“Except the vigilante crap,” she said, pulling her hand back as if she had only just remembered to be a hardass. “That needs to stop, whether you like it or not.”

Diego grinned. “No takebacks, you said whatever form it took. Kicking bad guy ass makes me happy.”

“Ugh.” She threw her hands up. “Just… be careful. Especially if you decide to tangle with Raymond.”

“Did I say I was gonna?”

“You didn’t have to.”

Damn but she knew him well. He had been playing it cool and she still somehow figured out he wanted to feed Ray his own teeth.

He was probably predictable. Not the worst thing in the world, unless it was in the context of a fight. Speaking of, he had one coming up a few days later.

In the circumstances it was easy to focus on training. Diego had never understood how people were distracted from their passions by life. In his experience, personal annoyances only served to spur him on. He had his priorities and he refused to be deterred from them. 

Even when, days later and in the middle of the ring, he looked up and saw Klaus hanging off Raymond Gurwing’s sleazy arm towards the back of the crowd.

If anything, it _galvanised_ him. His next punch was hard enough that the crowd made a pained sound in sympathy with his opponent. Diego lashed out again and again, as though this douchebag was the one fucking Klaus. As if Diego could beat him bloody then take Klaus _home_.

More than once he was pushed back by the ref, the owner of the gym. Second time he asked, “what’s gotten into you? Don’t kill the guy.”

Diego took it under advisement, but won with ease after two rounds. He didn’t look in Klaus’ direction when he took his leave. The money would be brought to his room post-collection. There were benefits to living where he worked, a quick getaway was one of them. Some people bumped fists with him on the way out, slapped him on the back in congratulations, but he soon got away from them to his room. 

He threw his shirt off and kicked his boxing shoes away. A knock on the door made him growl and he stomped back up to throw it open and--

Klaus blinked his big doe eyes at him. “Is this a bad time?”

His ridiculous furry coat did nothing to obscure the skimpy clothing beneath. The shimmery rainbow croptop. The fucking _leather miniskirt_ what the _fuck_.

There was zero resistance as Diego backed him up against the opposite wall. “You come here looking like this to mess with me?”

“If I’d known messing with you was on the cards I’d have dressed up, Dee.”

It was too difficult to keep not kissing him. Their lips collided forcefully and this time Diego was to blame. Klaus moaned into it and his arms went up over Diego’s shoulders as his hips pressed forward. Diego pushed back, pressing him against the wall. 

“You come here on that bastard’s arm looking like his whore...”

“Well I kind of am.”

“ _No_.” Diego growled. “You’re not his.” His hands roamed, one over the bare skin of Klaus’ taut tummy, the other sliding up under his skirt, along a warm thigh. God, he shouldn’t be doing this. “Why did you come here?”

“Wanted to watch you fight,” Klaus said, his voice breathy and gasping. “It gets me hot.”

“Yeah?” Diego nuzzled at his neck. Klaus smelled of alcohol. They should stop. He couldn’t stop. The adrenaline of the fight and the thoughts he’d been having all week left his willpower in tatters.

“Yeah… Been thinking about it since you came to the club. Saw you punch that guy.” Their hips rutted together, desperate for friction. “I want you to _wreck_ me.”

“Don’t wanna do that,” Diego murmured against his cheek. “I wanna treat you right.”

“Oh fuck,” Klaus whimpered, sounding broken. “That’s so much worse.”

“Sssh.” Diego’s fingers reached the curve of Klaus’ ass. He wasn’t wearing any fucking underwear. In a skirt that short it was a miracle he hadn’t been flashing everyone. Diego squeezed the soft, warm flesh. 

“Are we really doing this?” Klaus asked. “After all these years are you _finally_ gonna give me what we both want?”

The question made Diego hesitant. He looked Klaus in the eye for a while. Took in those blown pupils. “You know I want more than this.”

“I don’t know shit, Diego. I know every time I’ve offered you something you’ve run off scared. I… honestly before you saw me at the club I’d given up on you.”

“Same.” At Klaus’ frown, Diego clarified. “I care about you. I want you with me. I don’t know that… that I can m-make you happy but I know I can’t watch you destroy yourself.”

“What do you mean?”

“If we do this, you try and get clean for me. I’ll help. I swear.”

But he could already see doubt in Klaus’ expression where before there’d just been lust. His curls fell forward over his forehead as he shook his head. “This really doesn’t have to be… all that.”

Diego winced. “See, for me it really does. I can get empty sex anywhere.”

“All hail the alpha stud,” Klaus sneered. “This is that failed blowjob all over again!”

“Keep your voice down.” It wasn’t shame. It was a desire for privacy. Everything was more intimate when it was private, something Klaus never seemed to understand.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Klaus said, getting louder. “Am I an _embarrassment_ to you?!”

“Everything okay, Klaus?”

Both of them turned their heads in sync, noticing Ray at the end of the corridor. Klaus twisted free of Diego’s grip, which he released as soon as Klaus pulled against him. 

“Yeah, I’m fine, big guy. Was just trying to congratulate Diego on his win, but some people are never grateful.”

As he stepped away, back towards Ray and his drugs and everything that went with it, Diego said quietly, “I love you.”

Klaus’ eyes went very wide. He stared at Diego until Ray called him again, then seemed to shake himself.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m… yeah.” 

He still walked away. Ray’s eyes were on Diego the whole time. An attempt at intimidation, an expression of ownership.

Of course, he was wrong if he thought Klaus belonged to him. Klaus didn’t belong to either of them. He belonged to drugs. Had done for a long time now. Ray was just the dumbass who thought the stray cat kept winding around its legs because it loved him, nothing to do with the treats in his pocket.

What did that make Diego though? Another stray cat maybe, in this analogy. Yeah, that worked.

Didn’t help though. 

Nothing helped for a while after that. Diego got back into his stride. Vigilante activity in the night, work in the morning, workout in the afternoon, fights some evenings. 

Every time he had a fight he looked for Klaus’ face in the crowd. Once he thought he saw him, but then he’d been knocked the fuck out and when he woke up Klaus was gone, if he’d ever been there at all.

Life went back to its holding pattern and Diego got to do some good in the world. It had to be enough. What was the life of one junkie over all the lives Diego saved out on the mean streets?

Everything. It would have been fucking everything. 

Late one night he was working out when a message came through on his police scanner about a disturbance at Wings. Alleged assault.

Diego was already grabbing his things and heading out the door when Officer Brown piped up to say it was a false alarm. Officer Brown, otherwise known as Tim. Otherwise known as Raymond Gurwing’s bitch. Diego didn’t believe him and didn’t slow down. 

It could have been anyone, of course. A couple of customers getting boisterous after too many shots and scantily-clad people. Maybe Ray had taken offence to someone, or started on another of his ‘dancers’. 

Either way, Diego looked forward to kicking his face in. 

He saw the cop car when he approached. Eduardo saw him and rushed out of the vehicle. “Diego, hey. Hey man, there’s some stuff going down in there, I wouldn’t--”

“I’m going in.”

“Dude, this isn’t one of those comic books. Tim’s already handling it--”

“Thought it was a false alarm,” Diego said. 

“Uh...”

“Get the fuck out of my way.”

Eduardo did, going back to his car. No doubt planning on radioing Tim. Let him. It wouldn’t help. 

The mood of the main room was subdued, only one of the girls dancing while another fussed over the security guard who had intruded on Diego and Klaus. He was sat at the bar, nose bloody, the girl in fake angel wings pressing ice gently to his face. 

“What’s going on?” Diego asked them.

“Who the fuck are you?” asked the pretty guardian angel. 

“Ray’s gonna kill ‘im,” the guard said. “They’re in the back. You’d better stop it, it’s your fault anyway.”

Diego didn’t hang around to unpack that. He sprinted to the back of the club, wondering if he’d even hear the sounds of a fight over the music. He threw open every door he passed, surprising one amorous couple. 

Right at the end of the corridor was an open door to what looked to be a private stage. As Diego got near, Tim blocked the doorway. 

“What are you doing here?”

“Where’s Klaus?”

“You’re a proper Moulin Rouge pair, aren’t you?” Tim laughed. “Look, do yourself a favour and go home. This is none of your business. The workers here are under contract with Ray. They sign away all their rights. Man does what he wants.”

“And you clean up his mess.”

“I just don’t report it. Easier that way. It’s more of a domestic issue.”

That was when Diego heard a rough voice from the room beyond.

“Stop struggling, you ungrateful whore! You wanted out of your contract, didn’t you!?”

He tried to push past Tim, but the guy was fast, blocking him. “Leave it, Diego! It’s not worth getting your ass kicked over a dumb crackwhore!”

His fist hit as hard as it had the last time Tim used that word. The man crumpled to the floor and Diego jumped over him.

The room was like a small theatre, left over from the building’s previous life. Ray and Klaus were near the top of the stairs. Klaus was in his costume, the wings and corset and heels, but those heels teetered on the edge of the staircase as Ray throttled him with some sort of cable. Almost hanging him backwards over the edge. Klaus was trying desperately to claw at the cable around his neck as his face reddened, even though it was the only thing stopping him from falling over the edge onto the concrete fire escape about fifteen feet below.

Despite how much Ray was clearly enjoying himself, he saw Diego right away. “Oh look, it’s your fucking sweetheart. Let’s see which one of you goes first.” He reached for his gun with one hand.

Diego got his knives quicker. A flick of his right wrist and a blade sank deep into Ray’s head through his eye. The man screamed and let go of the cable. Diego flung the knife from his left hand.

Klaus fell.

Then he jolted to a stop as the second knife pinned his angel wing to the balcony ledge just a little above him to the left.

With a speed professional athletes would have envied, Diego hurtled up the stairs and wrenched Klaus into his arms, out of the angel wings and back onto solid ground. He turned around and tore the knife out of Ray’s eye before stabbing it into his throat about five times. Then he slid it back into his belt and took a deep breath.

He and Klaus looked at one another in silence for a little while. Klaus opened his mouth as if to say something, then closed it again. 

“Sit down,” Diego growled.

Obediently, Klaus settled down on the steps, not far from Ray’s bloody corpse. Diego knelt down on the step below and unbuckled the straps of those _stupid_ shoes. He slid them off of Klaus’ feet delicately.

Then he stood up and hurled them down at the stage, breaking a couple of lightbulbs. 

After a moment, Klaus reached into the top of his corset and pulled out a lighter and cigarette. He lit it and took a drag. “Well. Thank god _that_ danger’s over,” he said, smoke curling up towards the ceiling.

“They sucked.” Diego said with a huff.

“No seriously, thank you. The back problems really mount up the longer you wear them. You’ve definitely done me a favour. Plus they were cheap. A high class bitch like me deserves only designer.”

“I’ll try to save up.”

Klaus’ gaze darted up to him hopefully, no longer fidgeting and evasive. “Yeah?”

“I don’t know how to handle this. How to s-save you. But if you can just come home with me tonight? At least then I can, I don’t know, k-keep an eye on you.”

Klaus stood up in his bare feet and kissed Diego sweetly.

“You’ve only ever had to ask, Dee.”

Sweet, but not really true. Diego had asked him to drop the drugs so many times now. 

But they went home together, Diego’s jacket draped around Klaus’ shivering shoulders. 

“People will come after you,” Klaus murmured in the car.

“Let ‘em.” He didn’t fear anything like that. Though seeing Klaus hanging over that edge had made his heart race. “We could always skip town if there’s a threat.”

“Hmm.” Klaus sounded half-asleep then, and was dozing by the time they got back to the gym. Diego went around his side, opening the door as he woke and steadying him as Klaus stumbled out of the car.

The gym was quiet still and nobody noticed them as they entered. Diego realised Klaus was still barefoot, the soles of his feet visibly filthy from the floor when he raised them to walk. 

“Shower. Come on.”

Giggling, Klaus let himself be led. “You gonna scrub my back?”

“Maybe if you’re good.”

Nobody was in the showers either, thankfully. “Wait here, I’ll get you a towel and robe.”

When he returned with them and a pair of black socks, he found Klaus tugging at a knot in the corset laces with weary frustration. Diego set down the clean things, drew a knife and ran it through the laces of the garment. It opened like an oyster shell and Diego tossed it aside.

“Hey...”

“You don’t need that dude’s fetish wear.” Diego frowned at the seam imprints left in Klaus’ skin. Also at how thin he seemed. 

He flicked the water on and stepped aside, shrugging off his own shirt. As he thought about taking off his pants, even though he wasn’t planning on showering himself really, he noticed the water pooling beneath them was dragging swirls of crimson away from his bloody boots. Diego sat down on the bench near the entrance and tugged at the laces until he could kick the boots off.

“Oh, _your_ laces you have the patience for,” Klaus drawled, though he looked half-dead on his feet with the yawn he let out afterwards.

“I’m going to wear these again. You don’t ever have to dress like that again.”

Diego pulled off his trousers, figuring he’d keep his briefs on for now. 

Then he glanced up and saw Klaus hadn’t felt the same way and was standing with his face to the shower spray utterly nude and beautiful.

“But I like feeling pretty, Dee.”

Wandering over to him, Diego grabbed the cheap shampoo from the shelf. “Out of habit, I bet.”

Klaus looked like he was about to protest, then second-guessed. “Wait, that was a compliment!”

“Kinda. Head up,” Diego said quietly. Klaus leaned his head back towards him and Diego lathered the shampoo up in his curls. His own hair hadn’t been long enough for more than a quick scrub in a long time. Klaus’ wasn’t _long_ , but it was long enough for Diego to get his fingers into. 

After a little while in the heat of the showers with Diego’s fingers slowly massaging his scalp, Klaus’ head started to nod… then jerk upright. Diego rinsed his hands then Klaus’ hair. 

“Towel and robe’s there. Socks too.”

“Ew, socks,” Klaus mumbled, dragging himself over to the bench where the clothes were. 

Just making sure he wasn’t covered in blood didn’t take Diego a minute. Then he led Klaus to his room in the back. 

“You can take the bed, I’ll--”

A kiss stopped him from finishing that sentence. Klaus blinked those lovely doe eyes at him. “We’ll share.”

Diego sighed. “Klaus...”

“I just wanna sleep. But… I want you there. Near.”

So it was they went to bed together. Klaus curled up against him, Diego holding him close. Nuzzled his hair. They talked a little, about the things they had been up to while apart. There was a little kissing. Slow, affectionate, no sense of racing to do anything more. Just sharing all their want in brushes of their lips, like promises.

When Klaus was asleep against him, Diego lingered in wakefulness long enough to think on what Eudora had said. This was the weird form his happiness took. He’d kill again for it if he had to. 

In the morning Diego woke alone. 

“Klaus?”

He wasn’t in the room. Or in the gym. Or the showers. 

It wasn’t until Diego stormed back to his room that he noticed the ‘note’. A message in what looked to be eyeliner pen on his little mirror.

‘D, You want more than this. And I want you to be happy xxx’

Day one Diego roamed the city looking for him. Day two he was checking hospitals, fully expecting an overdose. Day three he awkwardly called Eudora, who told him she hadn’t seen Klaus but they had definitely been looking for him and if Diego had any sense he’d lay low himself. 

Day four he was desperate enough to call home. Mom was thrilled to see him at least, but she hadn’t seen Klaus. Neither had Luther or Pogo. They checked with Reginald. He hadn’t seen him either.

After that, Diego committed a part of every evening to the search, checking hospitals and streets again. 

Another four days passed before he got the call from Allison.

“Hey, Luther called me.”

“Great.”

“Did Klaus not tell you he’s in rehab?”

Diego’s heart started to pound. “No. No, he didn’t.”

“He swears he did, but...” Diego could almost hear her shrug. “That’s Klaus for you.”

“No, he didn’t say anything like that. I’ve been searching the fucking city for him.”

“Huh.” Allison went quiet for a moment, then, “I know this is the most we’ve spoken in years but was going to pick him up in a few days. You could come with me? He’s clearly not over his weird crush on you.”

Diego nearly choked on nothing. “What?” He knew Klaus wanted him of course, they were both pretty clear that was reciprocated now. But _Allison_ knew? Had known for… some time?

“Oh come on, it was obvious.”

A few days later, in her car that cost more than Diego spent in four years, it was her main topic of conversation.

“I mean, when he told me I thought, naturally. Of course. If anyone other than me with my rumour powers could get him to _voluntarily_ sign up for rehabilitation, it’d be Diego. You’re like, the only person he listens to.”

“Why didn’t he tell me he was going to rehab? I’ve been worried sick.”

“Well, he thought he did. When I explained to him that you’d gone to the Academy looking for him he realised he maybe wasn’t as clear as he’d meant to be. He was pretty high at the time, he said.”

“How? He was at my place. He didn’t have anything but the clothes on his back.”

“And the drugs hidden in them,” Allison said. “Come on. Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten all the crap he used to hide in his uniforms.”

Yeah, he remembered. A dozen missions ended with him smoking a cigarette round the corner out of sight, one plucked out of a sleeve or tie. Cigarettes were soon replaced with even more dangerous things. 

“So you’ve been in touch with him?”

“Sparingly before. He was furious with me after the last time I made him go to rehab.”

“When you rumoured him.”

“Yeah. Nobody ever really remembers when I do it, but you guys know me. He knew we had a conversation then he did something he didn’t want to do. He figured it out and he was upset.”

“He had every right to be. You can’t _force_ stuff like that.”

Allison huffed, her eyes still on the road even as she frowned. “I get it, okay? He relapsed _hard_ when he got out and he wouldn’t talk to me. I got the call from him last week when he checked in.”

Diego tried not to grind his teeth. “Why you?” Why not him?

She pulled the car into the gravel driveway of a large old-fashioned house. “He needed the money. And...” She sighed. “Did you know the drugs are the only thing that stop ghosts from screaming at him twenty-four-seven?”

“What? No!”

“Okay.” She breathed a sigh of relief. “That’s good. I was worried I was still the worst sister in the world but if _you_ didn’t know about it...”

“Why would I know about it?”

Her smile was indecipherable and she didn’t answer. They got out of the car and went inside, Allison telling the front desk they were there to see Klaus. 

They had barely sat down on the little chairs in the waiting room before hearing his voice. 

“Allison! Diego?!” Klaus clapped his hands together like a kid on Christmas and rushed to grab them both into a hug. “Oh my god, I missed you so much...”

Allison met Diego’s eyes with a look that suggested she was sceptical. “You saw me the other day. How’s… _that_ going, by the way?”

Klaus huffed and released them from the hug… though held onto Diego’s hand. “Well. I managed about two hours after you were gone, but I couldn’t stop thinking and eventually it all unravelled. Tyler,” he looks to Diego and explains, “the parapsychologist that Allison got me, thinks it would have worked better if I were younger. I mean, we can keep trying, but--”

“Trying what?” Diego asked.

“We’re trying to rumour away Klaus’ ability to see ghosts,” Allison said. 

“Can you do that?”

“I feel like obscuring someone’s power is probably something I can do. But it’s not sticking.”

“I’ve lost too much of my life to it,” Klaus said. “It gives my brain too many gaps to fill. Until then the staff have given me some delightful antipsychotics.”

“Are they working?” Allison asked.

“Meh,” Klaus shrugged a little. “The ghosts are fuzzier. That’s something at least.”

“You should have told me,” Diego said. 

Blinking with confusion, Klaus said, “you know I can see ghosts. It’s my thing. It’s always been my thing. That and my enviable aesthetic.”

Diego shook his head. So glad to see him but already a little exasperated. “I mean that you couldn’t turn it off. That the ghosts are always there.”

“Where else would they be?” Klaus asked, perplexed.

“You’re free to go now, right?” Allison asked Klaus, clearly trying to defuse the conversation before Diego got annoyed. “Or have they asked you to extend it?”

“I’m physically clean and I’ve got a bunch of resources to try and stay that way and I want...” He met Diego’s eyes, seeming a little nervous. “I want to try. Like, for real. I really wanna try. Um, can I stay with you, Dee?”

“I’ve got room,” Allison offered.

“You can stay with me,” Diego agreed.

“Seriously,” Allison said. “I have three guest rooms. It wouldn’t be a big deal. Diego has a bed in the back of a gym.”

Klaus cupped his hand to his mouth so that he could obscure his angry whisper to Allison. “You are the opposite of Cupid!”

She threw her hands up. “Okay, okay. I’ll just play taxi for you guys and use my powers to try and help you because it’s not like I have a whole life to be getting on with...”

“Hey, you owe me after last time,” Klaus said. 

They wandered back out to the car. “Klaus, you sold my clothes last time I let you stay with me.”

“Not all of them, some I stole to wear.”

“Well suffice to say, we’re even.”

Even as she said it, Diego doubted she would ever be done with Klaus. She had rushed to him when called, after months of not talking. She didn’t complain about having to drive them back to Diego’s, even though they both sat in the back, Klaus telling them about all the interesting characters he had met during his brief time in rehab. 

After Allison had dropped them off and obtained a promise from Klaus to call more and from Diego to look after Klaus, they were left alone once more.

In a way, Diego thought it should have felt awkward now that they had all these… expectations. 

But it didn’t. They were on the same page now. 

Sitting down on Diego’s bed, Klaus looked up at him with a smile. “So what now?”

“Now? Well, after all these years I’m _finally_ gonna give you what we both want.”

Diego leaned down and kissed him. Klaus’ hands went to his belt loops and tugged him closer. 

“And what if...” Klaus was breathless from kissing, “I want more than this?”

More than kissing, more than fucking. More than drugs and stripper heels. More than one night. More than something hollow and physical.

“That’s what I’m gonna give you,” Diego replied.

Klaus beamed.

“And I’ll give it right back.”

As soon as the next morning Klaus made good on his word, when Diego woke up and realised who he had in his arms. Sleeping soundly and safe. 

Really he should have got up to go begin his workout, but…

A man had to know his priorities.


End file.
